In Sheep's Clothing
by The-Ornery-Doofus
Summary: After the death of her mother, devoting her life to their little farm is all Buffy can do to stay sane. What happens when a man shows up on her doorstep, claiming to be her Father?


**Hello, everyone! I haven't published a story in so long, but I have been dying to post this one in particular. It literally came to me in a dream! I hope you guys enjoy this story and it's fairy-tale vibe. *Unfortunately, I don't own any rights to the series or the characters I used in this story.* Any and all feedback is welcome! Let me know what you think. I hope I don't come off too rusty!**

 _ **)-'-,-**_

 _It's a sunny day, and a blonde little girl in a red dress is playing underneath a tree. She is giggling and carrying on with her stuffed pig toy, talking to it as if it is her friend. The sun begins to set, and before the girl realizes it, it has become dark. Somewhere over the hill, her Mother is calling for her. The girl feels afraid, because she knows the stories of the wolves that come out at nightfall. The same wolves that have terrorized her village for centuries. She stands and clutches her pig to her chest. The bushes begin to rustle and a horrifying growl comes from within. She is paralyzed in fear until she catches sight of the yellow eyes of a wolf. She screams and begins to run. She knows the wolf is chasing her. She turns her head just in time to catch a glimpse of a figure clothed in red jump into the wolf's path._

 _ **)-'-,-**_

Ever since I can remember, I have lived in the small stone cottage at the edge of the forest. It was a ways away from the village, so seldom would the villagers let their children venture out that far to play, but I always had my Mother. She and I lived a quiet and busy life together, tending to our small farm all on our own. We didn't have much, but we had each other and a good home, and that was all we needed.

Sometimes before bed, or as we sat around the fire, my mother would tell me stories. Sometimes about the legend of the great forest, or the wolves that prowled our village grounds at night, but my favorite stories of all were about my Father.

She would talk about how great of a man he was, that he could hunt a deer with nothing but rocks and his bare hands, and that he was kinder than any man who had ever walked the Earth.

But one day when I was only an infant, he disappeared. There was a terrible famine affecting our village caused by an awful drought. He went into the Great Forest alone to hunt so that we would not starve, but he never returned.

"Is Father dead, Mama?" I would ask her. Her answer was always the same.  
"In my heart, I know he is alive somewhere. He will come back to us someday. He loved you very much, Buffy. He would never leave you alone."

When I was ten years old, my mother first became ill. She had fainted while preparing dinner for us. That started to happen more and more, until finally I had convinced her to call on the village doctor. He had never seen anyone with her condition. He had no idea how to help her.

As the years passed, she became sicker and sicker. The sickness affected her mind, sometimes making her become very angry one second, and fine the next, or even causing her to forget who I was completely for a few moments. Nothing could be done for her and none of the medicines we had tried had helped her. Her last year of life was spent completely in bed. She had taught me so much about caring for the farm and keeping up the house that I could take care of us completely on my own.

A few days before my seventeenth birthday, I went in to check on her. I found her glass-eyed, cold and unresponsive. She was dead. There was a small funeral for her in the village cemetery. I remember that day clearly. The townspeople had all gathered around to listen as the priest said his prayers. The old woman from the shop which I sold most of our produce to, had her arm around my shoulder, the sky above us dark with rain clouds and threatening a storm. As the ceremony ended, I noticed a figure in a red cloak at the edge of the lot, close to the wood. I felt a wave of familiarity wash over me. I started toward it, but the elder woman touched my arm, causing me to turn toward her. "Where are you going, dear?"

"To that man over there." I said as I turned back, but he was gone. "Oh, he was just there."

For the next year, I kept myself very busy with work. Alone, I had accomplished so much, even building a new barn for my few animals. But even with inventing new chores for myself, I could not keep my extreme loneliness at bay. I carried a heavy heart with me everywhere I went. I thought often of the man at the funeral, and wondered endlessly about him. What if, somehow, my Father was still alive? What if it had been him? He haunted my dreams almost every night.

On the anniversary of my Mother's passing, I got up earlier than usual to take care of the animals. When everyone had been fed and let out to graze, I picked the prettiest flowers from my garden and took them to my Mother's grave.

I sat there in the cemetery, telling her how much I missed her, and how lonely I was without her. I didn't know how much longer I could go on with things the way they were.

I waved at some of the villagers as I passed by them on my way home. Even though it was late Summer, there was a chill in the air. I crossed my arms across my chest, wishing I had brought my shawl.

When all of the crops had been tended to and all of my housework was complete, I put the animals back into the barn for the night. They were acting quite skittish, but I had no idea why. "Maybe there will be a full moon tonight." I pondered out loud.

I decided I wanted to make vegetable stew for dinner, and started to chop some of the produce from my garden. It had grown quite dark and I was halfway through slicing a carrot when there came an abrupt knock on the door.

No one would come round this late, especially with my house being so close to the Great Forest. All of the villagers locked themselves inside of the house as soon as night fell, in fear of the wolves.

I kept the knife in my hand and went over to the door. I peeked through a crack and saw no one there. I slowly opened the door and peaked my head out. "Hello?" I called. From the shadows walked out a figure in a red cloak. The very man from my dreams. In moonlight I could see him more clearly than I ever could before. He stood in front of me, and I had the knife at the ready. Slowly, he brought down his hood.

I gasped as I looked at the man, whose pale skin rivaled the glow of the moon. His hair was nearly the same color, only a few shades lighter than my own, and his cheekbones were as sharp as blades. Something inside me stirred, like someone was tugging at my memories. He looked so familiar to me. Like I had seen him dozens and dozens of times. I gasped when memories of his face flooded back to me.

"F-father?" I asked hesitantly, lowering my blade to my side.

He stepped toward me carefully, and when I made no move to back away, he moved his hands to cup my cheeks. His deep blue eyes bore into mine. "My sweet Buffy."

The knife clattered to the ground as I wrapped my arms around him and buried my head in his chest. He was tense for only a moment before he returned my embrace. "Father, you were gone for so long. I barely remembered you." I sobbed into his chest.

After moments of silence, I raised my hand to one of his larger, ice cold ones. "Please come in. You are so cold." He let me lead him inside, and we stood in front of the fire for a while, looking at each other. "F-father" I stuttered, the unused word feeling so foreign on my tongue. "I knew you would come back. You've been watching out for me all this time, haven't you?" I was still holding his hand. "But why did you stay so far away?".

"I have fallen victim of a terrible curse, my flower. I had to learn to control it, before I could return to you." He brushed a strand of hair out of my face. "I never truly left. I have always been watching you."

I stared up at him, wide eyed. "So the stories of the Great Forest are true. No one from our village has ever come back alive. You're the first."

"It's a desolate and terrible place. I cannot speak of all that has happened to me. But none of that matters to me now." His eyes reflected the fire as he looked down at me.

"So you are here to stay now, right Father? We can be a family." I grabbed his hands and looked into his eyes with so much hope.  
For a second, he said nothing, then he squeezed my hands and his mouth twitched with a grin. "Of course, my darling daughter. There is nothing more in this world that I could want."

 _ **)-'-,-**_

We had supper together, and I told him all about my life with Mother, and my life over the past year without her. He told me he was very impressed with my strength. Father said very little about his own life, and I did not want to pry.

When everything was cleaned up, I insisted that Father take back the room he shared with Mother, where I had been sleeping for the last year. I retired to my old room upstairs. I sighed happily as I changed into my nightgown and sank into bed. "From now own, my life will be a lot different." I whispered to myself. I had no idea how true that would be.

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 **There you go! Let me know what you think. I have really big plans for this story, and several chapters written out already. I keep fine-tuning them until I'm satisfied. Happy New Year, guys!**


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